The Final Plan
by WinkingCreepers
Summary: Moriarty is back, and now it's time for him to execute his final plan. Is this going to be the end for Sherlock and John, or can they overcome Moriarty again?
1. Chapter 1

**Author Notes: Hello, everyone! This is my first fanfic so please leave a review. I'm not too sure where this story is going, but I'm going to make it good (I hope.)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, except of course, this storyline. Sadly, that's it :(**

When detective inspector Lestrade woke up, he knew he was in trouble. A pounding headache made him queasy. Or maybe that was another side effect of the drugs that were injected into him by a man in black clothes with a balaclava on. Lestrade was walking to his car from a day at Scotland Yard when it happened. A needle in the neck, and he was instantly paralyzed and knocked out. Bundled into the back of a black van and no one would notice until he didn't show up for work in the morning. Plenty of time for the kidnappers to do what they wanted to do. One thing was the fact that they dared to kidnap him outside of London's biggest police station. They must have some kind of nerve to do that, and worse of all is that they got away with it.

Lestrade was tied to the most uncomfortable chair he had ever sat in. It was made of metal, and had ridges into the back that dug into his skin. His arms were tied in the worst way. Because of that, he was constantly in pain from the way they were tied. That was only a minor pain compared to the ache that ravaged his body. Most likely an after effect of the knockout drug. Just like the headache. Lestrade could actually move his limbs now, which he could not do half an hour earlier. The drug was slowly wearing off, that was proof of it. Lestrade was more worried about what would happen when his captives realised that he was awake. Lestrade noticed that he had his phone still in his pocket when it rung. He couldn't reach it to pick it up though; his hands were literally tied. He suspected he had been out for a while, and it may be morning. That would explain why people were ringing. As Lestrade could not do anything, he just sat there and waited for a few hours. He noticed that the rope that bound his hands to the chair were slightly loose. Loose enough for Lestrade to stand up in a very awkward position. He couldn't do much though. Lestrade tried pulling the chair away so he could be mobile, but his kidnappers clearly weren't that stupid. The chair was glued to the ground. He examined the knots on his hands. Sherlock would most likely be able to untie it, but Lestrade was never good with things like that. In fact, it was extremely likely that it was Sherlock or John that was calling him earlier.

Lestrade knew he was in a lot of trouble. He had no idea what he possibly could do to get out of this situation. He just prayed that Sherlock would find him before something bad happened. Lestrade settled back into his chair, but he changed his sitting position so he was about as comfortable as possible. After a while more of waiting, he heard footsteps coming up to the steel door at the front of the room. The door swung open, and in walked Jim Moriarty. "Hi there, Lestrade! Good to see you on this day. How's the headache?" Lestrade couldn't speak; all he could feel was shock. On the day that every channel in Britain was overrun by a picture of Moriarty, Lestrade thought that there was no way he was still alive. Lestrade believed that the man behind the TV was another criminal, posing as Moriarty. He shot himself on a rooftop, there was no way he was alive, surely?

"Sorry Lestrade, but I guess I'm just so changeable." Moriarty looked on at the expression on his face with a perfect picture of glee. "I guess me being here may be a bit of a surprise to you, but did you really think I would let Sherlock get away with his little trick? Not a chance. This time, he won't escape my trap. This time, I'll kill him. Just you wait. I'll make him into shoes."

Lestrade got himself together, and croaked out "You'll never win. You've tried before, and you've failed. It won't be any different this time." Moriarty looked at Lestrade with mock horror on his face. "Oh, we'll see about that."

Moriarty walked out of the room. Lestrade breathed a sigh of relief. Moriarty was dangerous to be around; you could never tell what he was about to do.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors note: Hi guys! Another chapter of The Final Plan here! We have Sherlock and John this time :)  
Disclaimer: I own nothing :( But please, feel free to give the rights to Sherlock over to me any time you want to  
**

When Donovan called Sherlock and informed him that Lestrade was missing, Sherlock panicked. He had always pretended he didn't care about Lestrade, but he did deep down. Sherlock had always remembered Greg's name, he just pretended he didn't to annoy him. Sherlock immediately notified John of the situation, and went to find an informant from his homeless network. He had to find Lestrade.

Sherlock went to the car park of Scotland Yard, to try and deduce something from the scene of the kidnapping. He needed all the information he could get; it could all be vital to finding DI Lestrade. He had strong faith in his homeless network, as they rarely let him down, but it still always pays to be careful. When Sherlock arrived, he immediately deduced that there had been a struggle, but that was useless. He didn't need his deduction skills to know that. He then deduced that the van had rushed out of Scotland Yard by a careless driver in a hurry. Sherlock thought he might just be able to trace the car tracks, but he soon realised that it would be impossible. Sherlock went back to 221 Baker Street defeated. He had failed to deduce anything from the crime scene. It was now out of Sherlock's hands, and he could do nothing but wait and hope that his homeless network would know what to do.

Sherlock kept on pacing, and it was clear to John that he was worried. Sherlock never acted like that. John was worried for Sherlock, but he could do nothing to calm him. Even Mrs Hudson couldn't calm him down with some of her tea.

Eventually, after around 2 hours of Sherlock pacing about, he went to get his coat, and go out. "Going somewhere, Sherlock?" John was looking at Sherlock with a curious look on his face. Where could he be going? "Of course I am, isn't that fairly obvious from the coat? And I already know that you'll ask me where I'm going, as you do every time I go out. You may also come with me, as it's clear that you wish too. I'm going to visit an informant from my homeless network. See you outside." Sherlock then took a breath, and briskly walked out of 221b. John sat there for a moment, still stunned at how fast his friend was at deducting people's emotions. He then got up, and followed Sherlock outside, to the cab which his friend was always particular good at flagging down.

After a few minutes of inside the cab, it stopped. Sherlock then handed over the cabbie the money that was due. John and Sherlock stepped out of the cab and into an old London street. There was cracked pavements and no one about. It looked like a dangerous part of town. Sherlock didn't even glance at his surroundings, he just went straight into a nearby alleyway.

Inside, was an old woman. Dressed in ragged, dirty clothes, it was clear that this person was Sherlock's homeless informant. Sherlock went up to her, whispered in her ear, and she nodded at him. She then whispered back in his. John couldn't hear any of this. Sherlock then grinned at John. It was clear it was good news.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors note: We switch between character perspectives with each paragraph this chapter. Enjoy!  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from this plot.**

Lestrade was panicking. The sound of flames licking the door outside, and the smoke leaking from underneath it made him in a very dangerous situation. The only thoughts running through his head was that he needed to get out, and soon. The smoke would most likely kill him before the fire did. It was the case in many fires.

Sherlock told John that his homeless network had found Lestrade. John grinned back at Sherlock, and they both went back to the cab that had strangely waited for them to get back, but Sherlock and John were too happy to notice. Sherlock told the cabbie to go to Winku Towers, where Lestrade was being held.

The smoke had clustered at the top of the ceiling and was steadily coming down towards Lestrade. He knew that this could well be the end. He always had suspicions that Moriarty would eventually kill him.

Once the cab arrived, Sherlock and John jumped out, but were devastated to see fire coming out of the top windows of the building. Smoke was flowing freely out of them. Sherlock realised that it was likely Lestrade would be inside a room near the top; where the fire was.

Lestrade moved himself around so he was lying on the floor. This could buy him a few precious minutes of time. He doubted that it would be enough, but he had to try.

Sherlock rushed into the burning building before John could stop him. John cursed and proceeded to fire his gun three times into the air. He didn't have time to call the police. John then followed Sherlock into Winku Apartments with a heavy heart. John had a strong suspicion that Lestrade was bound to die, or was already dead, despite their best efforts.

The smoke was now at the top of the door. Lestrade was trying to stop him breathing so heavily. The last thing he needed was to panic.

Sherlock was running up the stairs at an alarming rate. John could hardly keep up with him. He'd never seen panicked Sherlock before, and was still slightly shocked at how faster he was.

Lestrade had a doomed feeling in his stomach. He couldn't help the rising feeling of his impending death.

Sherlock had reached the floor the fire was on. Instead of the usual rooms, there was only one heavy steel door. Sherlock knew he had reached his destination.

Lestrade felt relieved when he heard footsteps outside. He knew there was every chance Sherlock or John wouldn't get to him in time, but he couldn't stop himself.

John had reached Sherlock. They both looked at the door. Sherlock noticed a key pad near the door, this was clearly how he could get in. Instead of numbers, there was letters. Scribbled on the wall next to the keypad were the words riot army. John had no idea what this could mean, but Sherlock deciphered it in mere seconds. Sherlock sighed, and then typed in the letters 'Moriarty' into the key pad. The door swung open.

Lestrade looked up at his friends faces with a beam of pure happiness. He was saved! Sherlock grabbed him quickly and hauled him out of the room, and back down the stairs with John following him.


End file.
